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Closet Monsters
Timmy called for his daddy. The monster that tormented his sleep was at it once again. “Tim! What’s wrong?” his dad shouted, bursting in through the doorway, the audible slam of the door against the wall making him jump. “Daddy, the monsters are here again,” Timmy said, his voice showing signs of him holding back tears. Tim looked throughout the room, his eyes meeting nothing but pitch darkness, save for the sliver of light lazily floating in from the hallway. “Now Timmy,” his father replied, “we know there’s no such thing as monsters, right?” “B-bu’ dad, this one’s real! I know it is!” A creak sounded off behind Tim’s dad, sending a wave of goosebumps up his spine, the prickling sensation startling him more than the noise had. “Daddy, what was that?” Timmy croaked, his voice barely more than a whisper. “I… it was the house settling on its foundation,” the father replied, not knowing what to say. “It’ll be okay.” “But... what if that was the monster?” Timmy squeaked, pulling the covers up to his chin. His dad smiled, and ran a hand through Timmy’s hair, the beads of sweat that had formed on it clinging to his hand. “Hush hush. It’s okay, now. There are no monsters here.” “Are you sure, Daddy?” “I’m sure, sweety. Now go to sleep so that it’ll be morning and you can stop worrying.” “Can you check? Daddy, I’m nervous.” “If I check now, you might never get back to sleep. Now hush.” “Can you sleep in this bed tonight, Daddy?” “No. I have to get up very early in the morning, and if I do, I might wake you up. You know that big boys need their sleep. Good night,” he said, planting a kiss on Timmy’s forehead. Timmy’s dad then stood up, and began walking out, each step creating a new creak. With that, Timmy was left alone in the dark. He rolled onto his back and stared up at the ceiling, the pitch blackness making him unable to make out the finer details. He let out a long, slow breath before shutting his eyes. There are no monsters here he thought to himself. There are no monsters in my room. Suddenly, he heard a small metallic creak, that of an opening doorknob. Timmy looked over at his closet to see the door slowly creaking open. He clenched his eyes shut tightly enough to make water drip from in between his eyelids, and began to hum a cheery tune to himself, all the while ignoring the slow, rhythmic panting that had begun shortly after the door began to open. There are no monsters here, he thought. There are no monsters here. He heard a step taken towards him. No monsters. He heard another. No monsters. His eyes shot open, and he saw nothing. The closet door was shut, in the same position it had always been, and there was nothing in sight. No monsters were in Timmy’s here tonight. The lightlessness of the room, illuminated only by the small glow of Timmy’s Stormtrooper alarm clock seemed to stretch on forever. He was safe in here. There were no monsters coming to get him. The only thing in here was him in his cozy, safe bed. He pulled the blankets up over his head, obscuring his form from outside view, and closed his eyes. A soft snoring could be heard fifteen minutes later. The monster opened the closet door again, this time taking great caution as to not wake him. Oh, such a beautiful child. It sighed audibly, before running a greasy, talon-nailed hand through his hair. He couldn’t comprehend what was going on, and yet he understood one thing perfectly: it was here. His father didn’t believe him, but children can know, almost like they have a sixth sense for it. The creature slowly bent down towards the sleeping tot, and began to lick the child, its shadowy black form crouching down in a strange, hunchbacked shape. The taste of the innocence ran over its tongue, and in return a slimy residue was left on the child, corrupting a small part of him. It continued to do this for almost an hour before hearing him stir. By the time he woke up, the monster had retreated back into the closet. Category:Dreams/Sleep Category:Monsters